Tactile Love
by MissDoctorDonna
Summary: Donna learns the needs of her new travelling companions.


Donna Noble wandered aimlessly down one of the myriad hallways of her new home. She'd unpacked all her luggage, stowed the suitcases in an empty room she'd found and was now exploring. She felt a sense of melancholy surrounding her as she walked down the dimly lit hall. Since she was feeling extremely happy and excited, Donna assumed it was the TARDIS. It felt as though the ship had been holding her breath since Donna had been back on board. The Doctor had explained that the ship was sentient and that he'd been bonded with her, as her pilot. Donna had nodded and tried to look suitably enlightened, but she hadn't really understood what he meant.

Feeling a bit silly, Donna looked up and asked, "What's the matter, old girl?"

Donna could have sworn the ship whined forlornly in response to her query. Walking over to a wall, Donna put her hand on it and rubbed it comfortingly. The TARDIS hummed in a low, dispirited manner. Adding her second hand, Donna rubbed more vigorously and then leaned in to press her entire body up against the wall. The lights around her brightened and the humming sounded more like a chuckle.

"Who's a good space ship, then? You are, yes, you are," Donna murmured to the TARDIS as she continued to stroke and pat the walls. Suddenly the wall thrummed under her cheek like a purr and the lights came up full. Giving a soft laugh, Donna rubbed her cheek on the wall before kissing it and standing up straight again. "There you go, sweetheart. Nothing like a bit of a cuddle to lift your spirits, huh?"

That was the moment that Donna truly understood that the ship was sentient and realised that the TARDIS liked physical affection. From then on, she made a point of trailing her fingers along the wall as she walked the corridors, stroking the counter tops in the kitchen and the console in the console room, as well as patting the wall in thanks when the ship did her a favour.

The TARDIS loved Donna unconditionally. She was the first of the Doctor's companions to truly recognise the ship as a being in her own right. Well, the second, after Captain Jack Harkness who flirted with her outrageously. But Jack flirted with everything, so as much as the ship had enjoyed his attention, she knew not to read too much into it. But Donna, oh Donna talked to her like she was just another bipedal friend, chatting away as she made the Doctor's favourite treats and meals. She asked the TARDIS' opinion of outfits and reading material. Wishing she could communicate with Donna as she did with the Doctor, the TARDIS nonetheless made her feelings known with her lighting, sounds and drafts of cold or warm air.

Something else that the TARDIS loved about Donna was her willingness to look after and protect her Time Lord. The ship felt his absence keenly when he went outside and realised that she couldn't look after his every need. But finally he'd met a Human who took care of him properly, the way the TARDIS wished she could. The TARDIS hummed approvingly as Donna made meals and baked snacks for the Doctor, ensuring that he was well fed and hydrated. She made him laugh and smile again. She slapped him and brought him back into line when he lost himself in a situation. She took some of the responsibility from his slender shoulders.

But he needed more.

When they returned from the Oodsphere, Donna immediately left to take a hot shower and get warmed up. The Doctor returned them to the Vortex and then ambled around the console room, waiting for his companion to return. After a long half hour, he grew bored and decided to go make himself a cup of tea. Sitting at the kitchen table, clasping his mug between his hands, he tried to ignore the overwhelming silence in his mind. He could hear the TARDIS singing to him, but it was a tiny voice echoing through a vast cavern. Hunching his shoulders, he gripped the mug tighter, ignoring the burning sensation in his fingers.

Having checked the console room, Donna headed to the kitchen. Stopping short at the door, she stared at his dejected pose. Frowning, she moved towards him and sat down saying, "Are you alright, Spaceman?"

Looking up at her, he flashed a manic grin and replied, "I'm always alright."

"Uh huh." Leaning over, she took the mug from his hands and then held his hands in hers, palm up.

Following her eyes, he saw that his hands were bright red and were stinging fiercely. Returning his gaze to her face, he mumbled, "Ow."

"You're a prawn," she said with a fond grin on her face, then blew air over his fingers.

His fingers tingled as her breath blew over them. A lump formed at the back of his throat and he gently withdrew his hands and put them in his lap. Keeping his eyes down, he cleared his throat and said, "Really Donna, I'm alright."

Seeing that he looked flushed, Donna put the back of her fingers on his forehead, then his cheek. He felt a little warmer than usual, she thought. She also noted how he leaned into her touch slightly and how his huge eyes seemed to glow. Clearing her own throat of the frog that had suddenly taken up residence and removing her hand, she stood up and told him, "I'm going to start some dinner."

The Doctor tried to ignore the yearning he felt when Donna moved away. He wanted, well, he was slightly ashamed to admit it but he wanted a cuddle. Rose had held his hand and hugged him. Jack had hugged him and tried to kiss him on occasion. Martha had also hugged him and held his hand. But all of them had wanted more back than he was ready to give. He'd just lost his entire species and his home world. Having the consciousness of his entire planet ripped from his mind had left him utterly alone and his soul felt fractured. As he'd told Donna before she'd come on board, he wanted a mate. Someone he could get close to without having to worry about their romantic feelings.

When Donna had touched his face to check his temperature, he'd nearly thrown himself into her arms. But she had always been very specific about him touching her, or rather not touching her. Tears had welled in his eyes and he'd willed them away before Donna could see them. It had been bitter sweet when she'd moved away and started to make their meal. He was relieved that he wasn't going to break down in front of her and yet he immediately missed the contact.

Trying to shake himself out of his melancholy mood, he joined Donna and helped her by preparing the salad. They bickered in a friendly manner as Donna prepared a simple pasta dish, which they consumed quickly and then they shared the washing up.

Looking at her friend as she hung up the dishrag to dry, Donna suggested, "Library?"

Nodding, the Doctor swayed a little as he stood up from the chair he'd just collapsed on, leaning into Donna as she grabbed his arm.

"Whoa there, Time Boy. What's wrong?"

"I'm alright, Donna," the Doctor pushed away from her reluctantly, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I just stood up too quickly."

"Sure you did, Spaceman." Eyeing him critically, she saw that he looked even paler than usual and had a pinched look about him. Seeing he was about to launch into a stream of platitudes of just how alright he was, she cut him off with, "Come on, I've changed my mind, we're going to your bedroom to get you tucked up in bed so you can get some sleep."

Digging in his heels, the Doctor's face reflected nothing but terror. Wrenching himself from Donna's grip, he cried, "NO! No. I don't even have a bedroom.. I don't need to sleep…"

"What do you mean, you don't need to sleep? Everybody needs to sleep. You're just talking rubbish now. Come on, you skinny alien twerp, you're almost asleep on your feet. I'm not trying to lure you to your bedroom to seduce you. We've already established that you're not my type," chided Donna, trying to drag him out into the hallway.

"Donna, please. Please. I don't have a bedroom. I just take a nap on the couch in the library or television room, sometimes. Really, that's all I need. Please," begged the Time Lord desperately, pulling against the determined Human woman. He could feel tears threatening and his head was started to pound, causing his stomach to feel unsettled. Taking a deep breath, he breathed out, "Please."

The TARDIS hummed a warning to Donna, hitting her with a cold downdraft, causing her to stop yanking on the Doctor's arm and turn to assess him instead. The look on his face was one of abject misery and he looked like he might be ill. Donna hadn't been brought up to be physically affectionate, but she had an overwhelming urge to cuddle the alien in front of her. He looked like nothing so much as a scared little kid, with his tear filled eyes and quivering lower lip.

Watching his friend apprehensively, the Doctor thought she might slap him but was relieved to see her face soften from determined to compassionate. She released the deathgrip on his arm and held her hand out to him, which he took with a trembling hand.

In a soft voice, Donna encouraged, "All right, sweetheart. Let's go to the television room. Can I get Earth channels on your telly?"

Nodding, he cleared his throat and blinked as he followed her, concentrating on the warmth of her hand in his. When they reached the televison room, Donna made a noise of approval at the big, squashy sofa which was wide and looked inviting. There was a foot stool and an entertainment centre with a widescreen television, dvd player and surround sound stereo system. Looking around, she asked, "Where are the dvds?"

"It's like a jukebox," explained the Doctor, with only a hint of his usual bounce, "you select the one you want, input the number and it plays." He pointed at a computerised viewscreen, that resembled an iPad, on the coffee table.

Glancing at him briefly, Donna quickly sat on the sofa and nestled into the cushions. Reaching for the remote, she clicked the television on and was impressed to find the first show of her favourite series was on. "Oooo, I love this show! Come on, Martian, sit down and get comfy. This looks like a marathon."

Settling on the seat next to Donna, the Doctor once again fought the urge to nestle into her. The few times he'd hugged her, she'd been so soft and warm but she quickly pulled away from him every time, leaving him feeling even lonelier.

It only took twenty minutes before the Doctor's head started to nod. The programme was good and he was amused by Donna's interaction with the screen, but he was just so tired. Also, his head was pounding and his still felt ill. All he wanted was to lie his aching head in Donna's lap and have her run her fingers through his hair. But he was afraid to try since he was pretty sure she'd scream blue murder and slap him. He sniffed delicatedly as a tear ran down his cheek. He really did feel wretched.

Catching movement from the corner of her eye, Donna turned her head slightly to see the Doctor shake himself awake. Continuing her surveillence, she saw his hand reach up to the bridge of his nose and pinch it. Then he sighed and sniffed a little. She was horrified to see a tear roll down his cheek.

"Sweetheart? What's the matter?"

The concern in her voice was his undoing and he found himself admitting, "My head hurts."

Starting to get up, Donna said, "I'll get you an asprin then..."

Grabbing her arm, he stopped her as he cried out, "NO! No asprin. Ever. It would kill me."

"Okay, okay. Aren't there any Time Lord painkillers?" Donna took his hand off her arm and held it in both of hers, concerned to feel that it was cooler than usual and trembling.

"I'll be alright…" he managed to rasp out through his constricted throat.

Sighing, Donna could feel the TARDIS nudging her towards the Doctor. Running her hand over his shoulder, she gently pushed him forward a little and said, "Come on then, take your jacket off and you can get more comfortable."

Letting her take his jacket off, he sat with hunched shoulders and his hands clenched in his lap. Donna began unbuttoning his shirt, starting with the cuffs. Shyly, he let her take his shirt off too, so he sat in just his t-shirt. Then she got off the sofa and he shivered a little at the loss of heat. Watching as she knelt at his feet and started to remove his Converse, he wondered where this was leading.

"Um… Donna?"

"Hush Spaceman."

Once she'd taken off his shoes, Donna sat on the foot stool with his feet in her lap and started to massage one of them. Leaning his head on the back of the seat, the Doctor groaned happily. If the circumstances had been different, having the soles of his feet massaged would have been a highly erotic experience for him. But as it was his best mate doing the massaging and he was in no shape to become aroused, it just felt nice. He felt the muscles in his neck loosen a little and he sighed.

Looking up at the sigh, Donna grinned when she saw the effect her impromptu massage was having. She'd been a bit worried about the reactions being different in her alien friend; concerned that she was overstepping her bounds into his personal space. Or that she'd trigger some sort of alien g-spot or something. Really, who knew how Martians had sex. But the TARDIS seemed to be humming encouragingly to her, so she put one foot down and picked up his other one.

All too soon, Donna stopped rubbing his feet and encouraged him to put them up on the couch. Then she covered him to the waist with a soft blanket that had been folded on a nearby chair. Resuming her seat, she was now behind him as he sat slumped in a sitting position with his legs stretched out in front of him. Her wonderfully warm hands were on his shoulders then and she kneaded the tense muscles, encouraging them to release the stress he'd stored there.

The television burbled away to itself in the background but Donna was concentrating on getting the knots out of her friend's neck and shoulders. When he seemed to be relaxed enough, Donna pulled him against her chest and pulled the blanket up over them both.

Mostly asleep now, thanks to the ministrations of his companion, the Doctor squirmed and wriggled until he was on his side. Nestling into Donna, he tucked his head under her chin and clutched a handful of her sleeve. Nothing hurt anymore, the background noise of the television combined with the TARDIS's humming and Donna's continual murmuring filled up the empty space in his head. Not completely, but enough to dull the loneliness.

Humming to him, Donna ran her fingers through his thick hair and rubbed circles on his back. Her efforts were soon rewarded with a deep, rumbling purr that vibrated through her entire body, making her snort with laughter and whisper, "Aw, bless. Good Time Lord kitty."

The TARDIS was ecstatic at this turn of events. Finally, Donna was giving the Doctor what he needed most – the touch of a loving hand. She hummed contentedly and blew a gentle wave of warm air over her pilot and his companion. Seeing that Donna could no longer reach the remote, the ship helpfully reset the television to the beginning of her series.

Grinning and thanking the ship, Donna shuffled down a little bit and rearranged the slumbering Time Lord, so she was more comfortable. His purring stuttered but soon resumed when Donna settled. The hand gripping her sleeve had tightened, as though to prevent her from getting up, so she kissed his head and murmured to him until he relaxed again. Leaning her head against the back of the couch, Donna started to watch the telly.


End file.
